Klink's Mini Monocle Madness
by baja-king
Summary: Written in acknowledgement of the centenary anniversary of Armistice. Short stories of reflection, with personal pledges of monies to support beloved projects: Old Soldiers/Sailors Home, K-9 units, etc.


I was a soldier once. I fought for my beloved Fatherland. As all monarchs are, some are more perfect than others are, and I felt fortunate to serve under one who was closer to the ideal. It was difficult studying to become an officer. Someone had to be the bottom of the class. At least I graduated. No - I more than graduated. I wanted it and I refused to give up. No one remembers Hermann Schreck. Why? He didn't graduate at all. Others were better than I was but I fought harder rather than rely on aristocratic lineage or knowing someone in the right position. All I needed was a chance. Once I had that chance, I exploited it to the fullest.

I was not the Blue Baron but I did my part. I made a difference. I earned my medals. You don't get them simply for showing up to formation on time. It annoyed me that some persons earned their medals a little too easily but jealousy was best left to matters of love, not war.

My country was beaten. We lost? How could that happen? We were on top of the world. Everything was ours for the taking and we did – we took. They didn't like it. They rallied allies from around the world and forced us into retreat. The greatest war machine could not stand up against the enemy hordes.

It was the saddest day in my life. While not there in body, I was there in mind and spirit as my leaders signed the treaty at Versailles. How could this possibly happen? Yet it had, but we Germans are a proud and strong people. We managed despite the reparations. Many of our people suffered greatly.

I was one of a handful allowed to remain in service. I wondered why the better aces were forced to retire from military service. I thought it an honor for many years until I learned the truth. The victors did not want our military to rebuild as a mighty war machine and so imposed restrictions limiting service. I was considered below average and so not a threat.

Yet we rose from the ashes and rebuilt. We refused to starve any longer. We struck hard and fast. Somehow, I lagged behind with promotions. Others who joined in service many years after myself were suddenly advancing the ranks. It was not fair. Ah, the bitterness once again creeps in.

Now I stand here looking at the gates of my beloved post, a simple Luftstalag to house prisoners of the Third Reich. I don't feel as I did at Versailles. I have disobeyed the general's orders. My prisoners remain alive. We are standing fast. Schultz stands by my side. Langenscheidt anxiously runs to me.

"Herr Kommandant! The tanks are one mile away and closing," Langenscheidt cried.

I hear the worry in his voice yet I remain calm. Ever since I was a boy, I wanted a great Germany. Yet our Fatherland was stained with the blood of millions of men, women, and children who did not fit the ideal. The Jews were the first. Many others joined them in the gas chambers, firing squads, and ovens.

My enemy casually exits his barracks even though I have ordered all prisoners confined. He dares defy me! It's simply a matter of time anyway and my cunning enemy knows it. He doesn't even acknowledge my rank as he rests his thumbs inside his jacket pockets. The look on his face is solemn.

Hogan said, "Kommandant, you know it's time."

Time indeed – it's already over but desperate men unwilling to yield continue to issue insane orders. I must do the right thing, the decent thing, because that is who I am and what I do. I embody the true Germany, not the madness that swept our land temporarily.

"You will tell them that I treated you harshly," I said.

Hogan said, "Nonsense. You were always tough but fair."

"For that, they might make me live," I sighed.

Hogan shrugged, "I'll put in a good word for you."

"I don't need your help."

The last thing that I wanted was Hogan's assistance. Men started abandoning the towers, as the roar of American tanks grew louder. I stand tall and proud.

Schultz whimpered, "What should we do?"

I replied, "Round up the guards and evacuate as many as you can on the trucks."

Schultz said, "I'll get your staff car."

"Nein," I said. "This will soon be done. See to your men's safety."

Schultz replied, "Jawohl, Herr Kommandant."

I dare not run from my fate. I watch as my men rally into action. They feared the Allies. I keep my eyes on the gate. I estimate five, maybe ten minutes, and then I would be the prisoner. The sooner this was over, the sooner we could all recover. I watch as my men start leaving in trucks. Schultz makes one final desperate plea for me to join them but I bid him a final auf wiedersehen.

Hogan sighed, "You should have escaped while you had the chance."

"No one ever escapes from Luftstalag 13, not even its Kommandant," I said.

Even though I keep my eyes on the gate, I know that the prisoners are leaving the barracks. They look at the fence and begin cheering as the tanks start breaking through. I calmly start walking towards the lead tank. I understood the protocol. It was time to surrender. The tank stops and its heavy barrel lowered. It points directly at me. I am alone.

A man emerged from the tank hatch and declared, "You, sir, are my prisoner."

Hogan cried, "He's my prisoner! Kinch, Baker – put him under house arrest."

I stood for a moment and glared defiantly at the tank. I did not intend immediate compliance. My men needed time to get away. With luck, they would soon rejoin their loved ones. Whatever they thought of me, it mattered not.

It's finally over.

 **Edited: Originally posted in italics as reflections of a moment in time, but the font proved difficult for onscreen reading. Hope you enjoy.**


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